For a man regarded as one of the greatest boxers of recent times, last week's live fixture involving Vitali Klitschko in Odessa was something of a change from the norm.

Rather than Las Vegas, Madison Square Gardens or the O2 arena, the venue was a tiny broadcasting studio in a backstreet in the grimy Black Sea port city of Odessa.

And rather than facing his usual challengers such as David Haye or Lennox Lewis, the 6ft 7in Ukrainian was dodging a series of jabs from a local television presenter - politely sceptical about his decision to form his own political party.

Why, he asked, would anyone who'd earned a fortune from prizefighting prefer the far dirtier arena of Ukrainian politics to the option of a comfortable retirement? And why, given the widespread disillusionment with the country's political class - even the leaders of its 2004 Orange Revolution are now discredited - should anybody watching bother to vote for his party?

"I understand that people believe that they are impotent and can do very little," replied Mr Klitschko, whose anti-corruption movement, the Ukrainian Democratic Alliance for Reform, has just started campaigning for next year's parliamentary elections.

"But I want to tell them: no fight, no result. Sport has made me realise that you have to be stubborn and to persevere to get the results. It might take longer in politics, but once you have the right goal and desire, you will reach it."

While his party's current poll ratings of around five per cent suggest that Klitschko the statesman is not yet the same sell as Klitschko the pay-per-view pugilist, it has steadily gained support since forming 18 months ago. And the 40-year-old WBC heavyweight champion is cetainly right about one thing: politics in Ukraine has many fitting comparisons to boxing, albeit of the bareknuckle kind.

Bitterly divided between its pro-Western "Orange" corner and its pro-Moscow "Red Corner", his new sparring partners - a mixture of Soviet-era apparatchiks and corrupt crony capitalists - are arguably far more dangerous than any he ever encountered in the ring.

The regular punch-ups in the parliament itself, footage of which has made Ukraine a world-class contender on YouTube websites dedicated to politicians' brawls, are at least among the cleaner bouts. Far more disturbing, from the electorate's point of view, has been the infighting behind the scenes.

Firstly there was the feuding between Orange Revolution leaders Yulia Tymoshenko and Viktor Yushchenko, whose incompetence as a president saw him lose office last year to Viktor Yanukovych, the pro-Moscow hardliner he defeated in 2004. And more recently there has been the prosecution of Ms Tymoshenko, who was jailed last month on what are widely held to be trumped-up charges brought by Mr Yanukovych, who is fast regaining the authoritarian reputation he had when last in power.

Little wonder, then, that an electorate once full of democratic vitality is now deeply cynical, with Mr Klitschko trying to galvanise them like a corner coach to a punch-drunk boxer.

"In sports you get disqualified if you violate the rules, but in Ukrainian politics no standards are at work," he admits, gesturing with huge hands that have won 43 out of 45 professional bouts. "Politicians remain in power although they violate the rules."

True, Mr Klitschko, whose brother Vladimir, 35, is also a reigning heavyweight champion, brings more than just his considerable brawn to the job. The son of a Soviet-era general, he speaks four different languages and holds a PhD in sports science - hence his nickname, Dr Ironfist.

Passionately pro-European as a result of spending much of his professional life in Germany, where he and his brother run a sports management firm, he made his first mark in politics in the ring in December 2004, when he wore an orange flag on his shorts in support of the protests that ousted Mr Yanukovych after he was accused of election fraud. Since then he has gained a seat on Kiev council - which he describes as "run like a banana republic" – and last year formed UDAR, whose initials form the Russian word for "punch".

The party has since gained some 400 councillors and 10,000 members nationwide, campaigning on issues such as improving services and ending town hall corruption. Nationally, they are now the country's fourth largest political bloc, pushing a liberal agenda to improve human rights, privatise Ukraine's Soviet-era utilities and bring in "European" standards of governance.

It also wants to limit the power of the presidency, and trim the influence of the country's powerful business cliques, who have long stood accused of having both pro-West and pro-Eastern politicians in their pockets.

Campaigning last week, he explained how he entered politics partly from seeing how badly Ukraine had fared compared to its fellow ex-communist neighbour Poland, which he visited as a young fighter in 1991. While both faced many of the same problems after communism, Poland had gradually overcome them, joining the European Union and becoming one of the most prosperous and stable of the former Eastern bloc states.

"Most Ukrainians think we are going in the wrong direction, with nothing really changing," he told The Sunday Telegraph over lunch in an Odessa restaurant. "We have had 20 years already to become a democratic country already - we cannot wait another 20."

Despite sharing the disillusionment over the perceived failure of the Orange Revolution, he still places himself firmly in Ukraine's pro-Western camp. "It would be a big mistake to move in the direction of Russia, as it is not a democratic country," he said. The jailing of Ms Tymoshenko, he added, was a "sign that authoritarianism is still here".

As of yet, there seems little sign of Mr Yanukovych heeding demands to free her, be they from Mr Klitschko or the European Union, which has warned that it may jeopardise closer ties with the EU. Indeed, last week, prosecutors began investigating Ms Tymoshenko for links to a contract killing 15 years ago, dimming hopes that her seven year sentence - allegedly for mishandling a gas deal with Russia - might be commuted.

Still, given the growing political apathy, the Klitschko brand does create excitement on the hustings that other Ukrainian politicians now struggle to muster.

Seen in the flesh, he is like an Easter Island statue come to life, his large, chiselled face staring out over his entourage, and a narrow-cut blazer showing off a powerful, yet athletic physique. True, rather like his boxing style, his speeches are workmanlike rather than inspired, yet his press conference in Odessa got a packed house, as did a speech to students at a local college - even if some did just come to get his autograph.

"We don't really know him as a politician yet, but everybody likes him, don't they?" said Marina Vasilieva, 49, one of several hundred "Udar" followers whom he addressed at a party meeting. "He also has a young, progressive team around him."

Others, though, are more sceptical, saying that while Mr Klitschko's personal wealth means he can be trusted not to plunder the state coffers, he lacks a coherent political strategy.

"He has got a lot of slogans, but he positions himself rather ambiguously," said James Sherr, of the London-based foreign policy think tank, Chatham House. "In Crimea in eastern Ukraine, he supports the extension of the lease of the port to Russia's Black Sea naval fleet, yet in Washington he is very pro-integration with the West. He's benefiting from disaffection, but that is easy because the overwhelming majority of Ukrainian voters quite rightly despite the political class."

The main challenge for Mr Klitschko, however, may be persuading the public to vote not for him, but his ideas. Like many countries emerging from totalitarianism, Ukraine's immature polity has suffered all too much from parties based around personality cults - something he is keen to end, but which may prove all the harder in a movement led by a man who is already a superstar. So when a party supporter from a village outside Odessa asked him if he would come to pay a visit, Mr Klitschko gave him short shrift.

"You are the party members, you need to do the promotion yourself," he said. "Don't make the excuse that we got no votes in your village just because I didn't come.

"A party needs to be cemented by values and ideas, not by leaders. People may be here at this meeting because they know my name, but we are trying to get away from that."

And with that, "Dr Ironfist" was off, pausing only briefly for a few autographs. In his latest fight, it seems, the crowning glory may be for his name to vanish from the billing altogether.